Lizzie's Wonderful Life
by christylee
Summary: Now Complete!  The conclusion of my Christmas Trilogy.
1. Author's Note

_It has been a long time since I have posted anything in FanFiction. I still get a review now and then to remind me that once upon a time I was quite prolific here, and it makes me want to write something new, but at this point in my life, it is difficult to find the time to sit down and write. I remember once hearing of a prolific writer who was asked, "How do you write so many novels?" and he answered something along the lines of "You put your ass in a chair and keep it there for a long, long time."_

_These days I just can't seem to find the time to put my ass in a chair for a long, long time. Too many other things going on! Maybe in the New Year I'll be able to make (and keep?) a Resolution to re-prioritize my life so that there will be more time for writing, because I still have so many stories I want to tell!_

_And here is one of them. As I said, I still get a review now and then, and a couple of recent reviews on my two previous Lizzie McGuire Christmas stories made me realize that this group is incomplete. It is a great literary tradition that things should happen in threes: Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks and the Three Bears (too hot, too cold…just right!), the granting of three wishes, the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, the Three Stooges! And even Ebenezer Scrooge, on Christmas Eve, is visited by three ghosts. So I felt this set of Christmas stories needed one more. There is a story about Lizzie and Gordo as children, one when they are teenagers, and now here is one with them as adults._

_For right now, I'm posting only the first section, just to let you know I'm still here, and there will be more. I have never begun a Lizzie McGuire FanFiction I haven't finished, and by the Grace of God, I don't intend to do that now. There will be more, over the next several days before Christmas. But in the meantime, enjoy the beginning of Lizzie's Wonderful Life-even though it is not quite so enjoyable at the beginning, but I promise it will get better, and it will be LG of the highest degree!_

"No, no, you go ahead," Lizzie said, standing in the doorway, wishing they would leave already, but more than that, wishing she didn't feel so antisocial towards the two people who were being so extremely nice to her in this, her hour of need. "I'll be just fine," she added, trying a smile, but not sure if she was really pulling it off. "Don't worry about me. Really."

Brandi and Todd stood side by side, their noses pink with the cold, their gloved hands linked, a picture of perfect love, illuminated by the multiple Christmas lights on their front porch.

"Are you sure, Liz?" Brandi asked once again. "C'mon, it will be so much fun! Just the thing to take you out of this funk."

Lizzie shook her head, her grip tightening on the doorknob. "No, really," she repeated. "You go and enjoy yourselves. I think I'll just…watch TV. I'm kind of tired after that long plane ride."

"Well, all right," Todd said. "But if you really want to relax, there's some wine in the fridge. Help yourself."

Lizzie tried to smile again, but it hurt. "Thanks," she said. "Now go on and enjoy your Christmas Pageant."

Reluctantly, the couple turned, leaving their houseguest alone. It was hard enough for Lizzie to see them walking down the driveway together, glove in glove, framed by the beautifully blinking Christmas lights. It was even worse knowing they were going to the Holiday Extravaganza at the elementary school where they both worked as teachers, where they would see their students performing in what was likely to be an unbearably cute rendition of _A Christmas Carol_.

But worst of all for Lizzie had been hearing her best friend's news on the drive back from the airport earlier that afternoon: Brandi and Todd were pregnant, expecting their first child in mid-July.

And what made that the worst of all? Lizzie had come here, to the safety and security of her old college town, for one reason only: to get away from the inescapable truth that, after last night's heated argument and startling revelations, not only were she and Rex never going to have children of their own, as she had always hoped, but she and Rex no longer even existed as a couple. That truth, it turned out, was not escapable. Her marriage was over.

She shut and locked the door, now alone at last. Truly alone, with the Christmas garland and Christmas wreaths and piles upon piles of pretty presents piled up under the Christmas tree. And that kind of loneliness, loneliness at Christmas, was truly the most unbearable.


	2. Lizzie's Wonderful Life

_Here is the whole story, just in time for Christmas. _

mmm

"No, no, you go ahead," Lizzie said, standing in the doorway, wishing they would leave already, but more than that, wishing she didn't feel so antisocial towards the two people who were being so extremely nice to her in this, her hour of need. "I'll be just fine," she added, trying a smile, but not sure if she was really pulling it off. "Really. Don't worry about me."

Brandi and Todd stood side by side, their noses pink with the cold, their gloved hands linked, a picture of perfect love, illuminated by the multiple Christmas lights on their front porch.

"Are you sure, Liz?" Brandi asked once again. "C'mon, it will be so much fun! Just the thing to take you out of this funk."

Lizzie shook her head, her grip tightening on the doorknob. "No, really," she repeated. "You go and enjoy yourselves. I think I'll just…watch TV a little. I'm kind of tired after that long plane ride."

"Well, alright," Todd said. "But if you really want to relax, there's some wine in the fridge. Help yourself."

Lizzie tried to smile again, but it hurt. "Thanks," she said. "Now go on and enjoy your Christmas Pageant."

Reluctantly, the couple turned, leaving their houseguest alone. It was hard enough for Lizzie to see them walking down the driveway together, glove in glove, framed by the beautifully blinking Christmas lights. It was even worse knowing they were going to the Holiday Extravaganza at the elementary school where they both worked as teachers, where they would see their students performing in what was likely to be an unbearably cute rendition of _A Christmas Carol_. But worst of all for Lizzie was remembering the news that Brandi had excitedly broke on the drive back from the airport earlier that afternoon: that she and Todd were pregnant, expecting their first child in mid-July.

And what made that the worst of all? Lizzie had come here, to the safety and security of her old college town, for one reason only: to get away from the inescapable truth that, after last night's heated argument and startling revelations, not only were she and Rex never going to have children of their own, as she had always hoped, but she and Rex no longer even existed as a couple. That truth, it turned out, was not escapable. Her marriage was over.

She shut and locked the door, now alone at last. Truly alone, with the Christmas garland and Christmas wreaths and piles upon piles of pretty presents piled up under the Christmas tree. And that kind of loneliness, loneliness at Christmas, was truly the most unbearable.

Immediately, she turned on the TV, hoping the noise would make for good company, but there was nothing on but News, and none of that was good. She walked from room to room in this small but beautiful house, which oozed warmth and hospitality at every turn, but it didn't make her feel any better, or any less alone. Her home in Colorado with Rex was larger and more impressive, filled with so much furniture, better quality furniture, and all the latest technological gadgets. Yet that home (which was no longer her home) could not compete with Brandi and Todd's in this most important way: it did not boast a small nursery, painted Apple Green with a pinewood crib and changing table, already filling up with blankets, bibs and rattles.

Sighing, Lizzie turned away from the nursery and walked towards the kitchen.

Maybe she would try that wine after all. Maybe that would help. But by the time she found a glass and popped the cork, she knew this was not the answer. It was going to be bad enough waking up tomorrow morning in this darling little house with her happy pregnant friends, and remembering why it was she was here. Adding a hangover was not going to make the morning any easier.

Suddenly Lizzie realized that she did not need something to deaden her senses; instead she needed something to wake her up. She would do what she always used to do, years ago when she was a college student in this town, and needed to clear her head after too much studying. She would take a walk! Into town! On to the campus! The air would be clear and crisp, and the walk would do her good.

It was the night before Christmas Eve, and everything would be quiet. With hardly any students left in town, she wondered if Aunt Mary's Coffee and Pastries on the corner of University and 15th would even be open. If it was, she might stop in for one of those giant chocolate chip cookies.

For the first time since she'd gotten into town, she was truly looking forward to something. She turned off the TV, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and put on her coat. Digging deep into the pocket, she found the house keys Brandi had given her earlier. She left through the front door and walked down the steps past all the brightly blinking Christmas lights.

As she began her walk, her head began to clear, her blood began to pump, she felt better. For a little while at least she did not think of anything except Aunt Mary's chocolate chip cookies, how cold it was, and, as she observed her surroundings, how "the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens."

That was a line from a book, she remembered, a Edgar Allen Poe book, that she had read in an English class, a class she and Gordo had shared, back when they were still a hot item in high school. She smiled sadly, thinking of Gordo. He had been quite fond of that line, and after discovering it, said it often. Whenever it was about to rain, he was likely to pull himself up to his full height (which, amazingly, had increased significantly by his senior year in high school), clear his throat, and dramatically observe, "Well, yes, of course it's going to rain. As you can plainly see, the clouds are hanging oppressively low in the heavens."

These clouds now, hanging all around the campus bell tower in the distance, did not look like rain, but rather like it might snow at any moment.

She continued walking, silently, for many minutes, her mind racing with thoughts of Gordo, of Miranda, of all the friends she had left behind when she first came to this University, a thousand miles away from her home in California. Fresh out of high school, and on her own for the first time in her life, Lizzie had let herself undergo so many changes. Too many changes. Now, looking back, she could now hardly believe that high school Lizzie and college Lizzie were the same girl.

And the person she found herself to be at this moment bore little resemblance to either.

Sighing, Lizzie's thoughts went back to Gordo, and she wondered what had become of him. As she turned the corner on to University, and the bright amber lights of Aunt Mary's Coffee and Pasties came into view, her mind was suddenly flooded by a wave of memories.

Now here was something she had not thought about for many years. That's right! She had not actually left Gordo behind after high school. He had come here with her! He had chosen this University, chosen it over offers from USC and NYU, simply because he wanted to be with her. And they had remained together, a couple, for at least a semester, before Lizzie became so engrossed with her new friends on the cheerleading squad that Gordo somehow slipped quietly into the backdrop of her life.

In a year, she had all but forgotten he existed.

Coming now upon the bright front window of Aunt Mary's, Lizzie could see that the shop was indeed open, and filled with people. She stood for a moment on the sidewalk outside, recalling that first college Christmas, when she and Gordo, still a couple, but so recently returned from a Thanksgiving trip back home, had decided to stay in town together through the Winter Break.

With all of Lizzie's roommates away for the holidays, it was easy for them to spend every moment together, in that big, empty house, building a snowman on the front lawn… cooking spaghetti in the kitchen with the checkerboard tile floor… watching old Christmas movies on TV before snuggling into bed with the cat and a space heater, as frost build up on the bedroom window. And in the morning, they would bundle up and walk down to Aunt Mary's for a hearty breakfast of hot cocoa and \chocolate chip cookies. It had been a magical time for them. In fact, that Christmas had been the last magical time for the two friends, now lovers, and soon to be relative strangers.

By the following Christmas, Lizzie had already become infatuated with Rex. And Rex did not approve of Aunt Mary's, because he didn't want all those big chocolate chip cookies ruining his cute little girlfriend's cute little figure.

Now Lizzie stood on the sidewalk, on the outside looking in at a young couple who reminded her so much of herself and Gordo all those years ago. She sighed, having completely lost her appetite. She walked right past the bright front window of Aunt Mary's, feeling just as empty as the dark street she was crossing.

These unexpected thoughts of Gordo made Lizzie feel even sadder than she already did. So she didn't quite understand why she was letting her feet take her deeper and deeper into the downtown area, where she felt quite certain that The Ritz movie theater would be having a special showing of some old classic Christmas movie. Was that tradition still alive? She had to know.

That first Christmas, which she and Gordo had spent together, they had come to The Ritz to watch the old-time Bing Crosby classic, _Holiday Inn_. Lizzie couldn't have cared less about this hokey antiquated movie, but as a film student, Gordo said it was an important part of the history of The Studio Years. Everybody in the theater joined Bing and the gang in singing _White Christmas._

The following year, Lizzie was firmly entrenched in cheerleading, and a bunch of girls form the squad went to The Ritz for a double feature of childhood classsics, _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_, and _Frosty the_ _Snowman_. Lizzie sat with Brandi, and they joined the snowman in singing _Silver and Gold_.

Brandi was the only friend from cheerleading with whom she still kept in touch.

By the next year, Lizzie and Rex were a hot item, and he thought the tradition of Christmas classics at The Ritz was "dorky and stupid," so they didn't go. And of course, by her senior year in college, Lizzie and Rex were engaged, and traveling to meet his parents, and there was so much speculation about what NFL team would draft him, the salary he would soon be earning and what kind of house they wanted to buy, that classic Christmas movies were the last thing on Lizzie's mind.

But this year, as she approached The Ritz, even from a distance she could see the bright marquee advertising _It's a Wonderful Life. _For a moment, she smirked. Yeah, right. A wonderful life of being alone and having to start all over again.

She sighed. Well, what the heck. Sitting alone in the dark, at least she could get out of the cold, which was starting to overwhelm her, and perhaps, also, she could at last get away from all the troubling thoughts and memories that had plagued her on this walk.

She paid at the window, using cash instead of her credit card, because she still didn't want Rex, or anyone else for that matter, to figure out where she had gone. He had people who could find out things like that, if she left a trail. Though it briefly occurred to her that she might be flattering herself to think that Rex might actually care about trying to find her.

She went into the old musty theatre, let her eyes adjust to the darkness, and carefully walked to a seat somewhere in the middle. From what she could tell, there were only a few people, scattered here and there. Some were watching, munching on popcorn, some whispering with their heads together, and one very young couple, she noticed just before she sat down, engaged in a heavy make-out session in the very last row. She took her seat and gave all her attention to the screen.

This was a movie she had seen, many years ago, but didn't remember that well. Once again, Gordo had insisted, waxing poetic about "Frank Capra's folksy charm," or some such thing. Yes, this was a charming movie in many ways. Charming, folksy, old-fashioned, and a complete escape from anything that resembled reality. For that, Lizzie was most grateful at this moment.

She had come into the theater about a third of the way through the movie, and it vaguely passed through her mind to be grateful she did not have to sit through the scenes of George Bailey courting Mary, their marriage, and the joys of their young life together. Mostly, she watched him run the bank and help his neighbors. Then Uncle Billy lost the money, old man Potter threatens to have George arrested for bank fraud, and George came at last to the end of his rope, completely despondent, contemplating a jump from the bridge.

The more despondent George Bailey, the more uncomfortable Lizzie felt watching all this. For one thing, she could completely empathize with his feelings of hopelessness. For a moment, engrossed in the tale, she had forgotten her own situation, but sharing these strong emotions with the main character, the details of her own life began to rise up once again..

But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was that she knew what was coming next. And sure enough, there he was, Clarence the Angel, taking George on a trip to an alternate reality, a reality in which he had never been born. That was bad, because over these last twenty four hours, ever since that horrible fight with Rex the night before, and especially sitting quietly on the plane ride from Colorado, Lizzie had more than once tried to push out of her mind the thought that when all was said and done, her life thus far had not amounted to anything of significance.

She was supposed to be a teacher by this time, like Brandi and Todd, making a difference in the community, helping children, touching lives. But instead, she had put that career on hold to enjoy the frivolous existence of an NFL superstar's wife. During this time, she had kept herself fit and pretty, enjoying the media attention whenever she accompanied Rex on his games, but mostly she was keeping herself in good shape in anticipation of having a healthy and lovely pregnancy. She wanted children. She talked to Rex often about it, but he always had an excuse to wait just a little longer. And she, as a dutiful wife, was waiting. Waiting and waiting…until at last the truth came out…

The truth was that Rex did not want to have children, and what's more, he did not want Lizzie either. He had grown tired of her. He had found someone else. The truth was that their marriage was over.

But furthermore, the most painful truth of all, Lizzie now surmised, was that her life to this point amounted to nothing. Absolutely nothing. She had a famous handsome husband from whom she was soon to be divorced. And she had no children. And she had no career. And if she had never been born, no one would notice, no one would care, not even one person's life would be even the slightest bit altered…

For George Bailey, of course, everything turned out al right in the end. The bell was ringing, Clarence was getting his wings, and there was n'ary a dry eye in the house. The credits rolled, and Lizzie could hear a few sniffles here and there, as people began to get up and leave.

Yes, that's what people did at the end of this movie, wasn't it? They cried because it was so touching that George Bailey had finally come to the realization that his life truly did mean something, that he truly had made a difference to the people in his world. The audience cried along with him in joy.

And Lizzie was crying too at this point, but not in joy. She cried because she, unlike George Bailey, had come to the realization that her life made no difference whatsoever. But what was worse, she realized now, she had been wrong in thinking that her life had made no difference. Oh, if only that could be so! But instead, her grand contribution to the world was that by being alive, she had messed up other people's lives!

Well, maybe not a lot of people, but one very special, very important person. Being here in this town, in this theatre, and having so many thoughts of her old pal Gordo, Lizzie was suddenly struck with the realization that if she had never been born, Gordo may have actually had the opportunity to achieve his schoolboy dream of becoming a great movie director.

Lizzie had no idea what had become of Gordo, but every time she watched a movie or a TV show, she looked at the director's name, and it was never David Gordon, so she felt quite certain he had never achieved his dream.

And why? Because Gordo had followed her here to this University, rather than to USC or NYU, which had much better Film Studies programs! He had turned down scholarships and chosen love over success, and it had been a dumb choice. Even though he had assured her repeatedly that this University's Film Studies program was "just as good," Lizzie knew that it did not have the prestige of those other schools. Lizzie knew now that Gordo had thrown away a golden opportunities to succeed, simply because he, as a young and stupid kid, had been so in love with her.

And how had she repaid that love? By dropping him like a hot potato, the first time a football superstar glanced her way. She had let Gordo down, totally let him down, and totally ruined his life, and had absolutely nothing to show for her own life, and _crap, crap, crap!_ She sat back, trying to catch her breath, and trying not to cry. It was NOT a wonderful life! No, not at all.

So Lizzie sat there in the darkened movie theater, which was now completely empty, with one hand over her eyes, trying not to cry, or at the very least trying not to sob so loudly. Yes, it was okay to cry at the end of _It's a Wonderful Life._ But it hardly made sense to be bawling like a baby.

Well, the good thing about all this, she managed a single clear thought, was that the theater was still dark, and now surely empty. If she could just take a moment to take a deep breath, calm her breathing, collect her emotions…

But in that moment, in that dark and quiet movie theater, she could too easily hear her attempt at a deep breath catch in her throat, once again sounding more like a sob, and that one sob led to another, and another…

And then she heard something else. She heard footsteps, someone walking towards her, and she panicked, and stopped breathing long enough to stop sobbing. But she was too embarrassed to move. Who was this coming towards her? Why couldn't they just leave her alone? How in the world was she going to get out of this?

The intruder approached even closer, and though Lizzie dare not look up from under the hand blocking her face, she could tell that someone was right there, stopped in front of her, and now sitting down beside her….

This was so awkward! So horrible!

Then….

"Lizzie…?"

Her heart froze. An avalanche of memories came crashing down in that voice, in that one word. And now she dared to look out from behind her hand.

"Gordo…?" she returned in total wonderment.

Yes, it was Gordo. He smiled at her, sadly, and reached out and took her hand. "Hey…" he said, a touch of concern and confusion in his voice. He was at a loss for any further words.

Lizzie sat up straight. Electrified. She stared at him, overwhelmed by his presence, and thinking how good he looked, and in that moment not even caring that surely her mascara was smeared all over her face.

Then she remembered that her mascara must surely be smeared all over her face, and used her fingers to wipe all around her eyes as she exclaimed, "Gordo! Gordo! Oh my God! What are you doing here? I mean, how…?"

"I live here," he said simply, with a shrug, and another smile, this one not as sad as before. "More to the point, though, Lizzie…what are _you_ doing here?"

"I…I…oh my God! Gordo!"

Impulsively, Lizzie threw herself across the seat and into Gordo's arms. Now the tears came in buckets. She was crying, but she was also laughing, and Gordo was laughing too.

"Lizzie!" he laughed. "Do you know how long it's been since anyone's called me 'Gordo'?"

"Oh my God, Gordo!" she exclaimed. "I was just thinking of you! Is it really you? Are you sure you're really here? Are you sure you're not like…like some angel that's come down from Heaven to try to make me feel better? I was just thinking of how we used to…how we used to be together, so close, and how I just let that all slip away, and how stupid I've been, and how cruel I was to you. And how I just totally…totally screwed up your whole life…"

Once again Lizzie was crying. These last twenty-four hours had really been just too much for her. Compassionately, Gordo took her in his arms, and she buried her head on his shoulder. He was wearing a flannel shirt, and it felt so good against her face, which was both cold with tears and hot with shame.

"I'm so…so sorry…" she bellowed into his shirt. "I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you…every way I let you down, every way I've messed up your life…so…so…totally…"

"Hey…hey…" he said quietly. "Listen here, Lizzie. I don't know what you're talking about, but you haven't messed up my life. Where is this coming from, anyway?"

"But don't you remember? You followed me out here to school," Lizzie said. "You came here just for me. You didn't go to USC. You didn't go to NYU. And because you didn't get the best education, you didn't get to become some big important movie director…did you?"

She lifted her head and looked at him, suddenly wondering if maybe she was indeed wrong about that.

But Gordo looked back at her and said "No, I didn't." But he said it with a smile.

Confused, Lizzie went on, "But then…then it's true! I mean, all the things you could have done with your life…so many wonderful things…and you didn't…and it's all because of _me_…"

Gordo laughed, and hugged her again. "Oh, Lizzie, Lizzie…" he said. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a little self-centered?"

As a matter of fact, someone did tell her that all the time. Rex was always accusing her of it. But she didn't want to think about Rex right now. And somehow when Gordo said it, it didn't sound like such a bad thing, it just sounded more like a minor flaw, an almost endearing trait. So, oddly, she didn't mind that Gordo was calling her self-centered.

"But don't you mind…I mean, didn't you hate me when…when I just…just let you _go_….just let you slip away like that…leaving you all alone…"

Gordo thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't hate you, Lizzie. And I'm not alone."

Lizzie suddenly remembered. "Oh wait!" she repeated. "But that's right! You weren't alone, were you? There was some girl, I remember seeing you with this girl, afterwards…I mean, after, when we broke up, or drifted apart, or whatever it was that happened…there was this other girl…"

"Wendy," Gordo supplied.

"Yeah, Wendy," Lizzie remembered. Then, "So…it's…you and Wendy?"

Gordo shook his head. "Rebound," he said. "It didn't last long. And besides, that was such a long time ago."

"Then…then…?"

Lizzie was trying to put together the pieces, desperate to discover some scenario in which she had not prevented Gordo from having a successful career, or, at the very least, not prevented him from being successful in love. She needed to know that something had gone right for him, so she wouldn't feel so horrible about how she had mistreated him.

"Then what?" Gordo said. "Then life goes on. Right? It's all good."

"Is it?" Lizzie said, hearing a tone of bitterness creeping into her voice.

"It is for me," Gordo said. "Hasn't it been for you? I would think it has been."

But Lizzie didn't want to talk about herself, didn't want to dwell on her own problems. She had spent most of the last twenty-four hours obsessing about her own problems. But none of that mattered now. Her concerns had shifted. Right now, she just had to know that Gordo was okay.

"Tell me," she said, almost pleading. "Tell me, Gordo, that everything's been okay for you. Tell me how I didn't mess up your life."

Gordo took Lizzie's hands and looked her directly in the eye. "Hey, Lizzie…what's going on with you? Why have you been crying like that? Is it just because of the movie? It's a tear-jerker, to be sure, but this…"

Lizzie took away her hand, and wiped at her face again. "Things don't always work out the way we plan," she said. "And I just need to know…"

"Well, you can know this about me," Gordo said, taking back her hand. "You have not messed up my life, Lizzie McGuire. Sure, I came here to school, rather than any other, because you were here. And we had a good time, at first, and I never regret that. I do regret that I let you slip away, but that's the way it is, nothing we can do about the past now, is there?"

Lizzie took her deep breath. Gordo was making sense.

"So after you, there was Wendy," Gordo went on. "And after Wendy, there was Jill, and after her…some other girl, I can't remember, and none of them were any good, because none of them were you. But then finally, there was Amy."

Lizzie sniffed. "Amy?"

It was odd how she was at the same time happy for Gordo, and yet also, somehow, jealous.

"Yes, Amy," Gordo said. "But we did things a little backwards, I guess you could say, because first she got pregnant, and then we got married-"

"Married?" Lizzie interrupted. "You're married? And you've got a kid?"

Gordo's smile now was unrivaled by any he had given her thus far. "I've got a kid," he exclaimed proudly. "His name is Joey, he's four and a half, and next year he starts kindergarden. And he's super-smart."

Lizzie smiled. "Just like his dad," she said quietly. "Congratulations, Gordo. I'm so happy for you. I really am. For you and…for Amy."

There was a hushed moment. Lizzie was thinking how odd it was that just a few hours ago, the thought of Brandi and Todd embarking upon the adventure of Parenthood had caused her such distress, but now…this…she was indeed happy to hear about Gordo having a kid.

These were Lizzie's thoughts, but not Gordo's. Unexpectedly, Gordo said, "Only thing is…there is no… me and Amy. Not anymore."

Lizzie looked at him, almost afraid to hear his explanation.

"That…didn't work out," Gordo said simply. "Divorce can be a wonderful thing sometimes, you know. But she still lives here in town, so Joey gets to see both of us all the time. So it's really worked out well. All good."

"Then you… you live in town?"

Gordo nodded. "Yep. Still do. Never left. Don't really see a need to."

Lizzie chuckled. "It's hard to believe."

"What is?"

"You!" she said. "All those big dreams! Hollywood-sized dreams. And here you are, stuck in Po-Dunk…"

They shared a quiet laugh, remembering.

"I'm not stuck," Gordo said. "I like it here. I really do. As much as I guess you like it in Colorado."

Lizzie was caught unawares. "You know about that?"

"About you and Rex? Sure. Who doesn't? I'm kind of a major football junkie. I follow all the teams."

"You do?" Lizzie was amazed. "Since when? I mean…"

"People change, Lizzie. It's okay. You're allowed to change."

_You're allowed to change._

_Then life goes on._

Lizzie looked at Gordo. He was making so much sense. He was exactly what she needed right now.

"So.." she said. "Let me make sure I understand this. You don't mind that I …I let you go. Because you weren't with me, so you found Amy. And because you found Amy, you had…what did you say his name is? Joey?"

Gordo nodded. "Joey The Baby Kangaroo!" he said with a giant grin.

Lizzie found herself smiling too. And unlike earlier in the evening, this smile did not hurt. In fact, the longer she sat there, looking at Gordo, the less her smile hurt, the less everything hurt. Yes, there were still major issues in her life, she wasn't denying that, but somehow, finding this old friend seemed like some kind of Christmas miracle that might somehow make it all so much easier to bear.

She looked at Gordo, amazed to have found him again, and he looked back at her, equally amazed. They just kept looking at each other until suddenly it felt a little silly to be sitting here together in the dark and empty theater, just looking at each other and not saying anything. So Gordo decided to say something.

"Do you know what I could really go for just about now?" Gordo said.

"No, what?"

"A great bit chocolate chip cookie! Those really huge ones! From Aunt Mary's!"

"I passed Aunt Mary's on the way over here," Lizzie said. "She was open a little while ago. Do you think she still is?"

"Want to go find out?"

Lizzie nodded, gathering up her coat. "I was just thinking we ought to get out of this place, before the next show starts."

"There is no next show," Gordo said. "This was it for the night."

"Well, we should at least get out of here before the owner kicks us out."

"That's not going to happen," Gordo said.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm the owner."

Lizzie stopped and looked at him.

"You are?"

"Yeah. Why? Is that so strange?"

She thought it over. "Well…no…maybe not. Actually, I think it kind of makes perfect sense."

They began to walk together towards the Exit.

"Of course," Lizzie said, "I'm sure you're working on a screenplay."

"Of course," Gordo confirmed.

"You were always working on a screenplay," Lizzie remembered. "And you're going to tell me all about it, over cookies and coffee. Right?"

"Of course," Gordo said, holding the door open for Lizzie. "But first, I want the answer to my question, which you haven't answered yet. What in the world are you doing here, Lizzie?"

Lizzie took a deep breath. And then another deep breath. She knew it was going to be okay to talk about it now. "Okay," she nodded. "But let's get those cookies first."

She waited while Gordo said goodnight to the kid who had taken her ticket earlier, then locked the cash drawer, shut off some lights. As he was checking the popcorn machine, Lizzie had a moment to text Brandi: "Walked to town, met an old friend, may be in late."

"Ready?" Gordo said, offering his arm.

They walked out together, and as Gordo turned to lock the door, Lizzie began, "Hey, Gordo-"

He laughed. "Please, Lizzie! You're not really going to go on calling me Gordo now, are you?"

"What?" she giggled. "Don't you like your nickname anymore?"

"I'd like it if you called me Dave," he said. "All my friends do."

"Well…okay…Dave…" Lizzie tried, then giggled. "But it's going to take some getting used to."

"So…what were you 'heying' me for, anyway, Lizzie McGuire?"

"I was just going to say," Lizzie began, pointing up at the streetlight, "…Hey…Dave… look!"

Gordo looked up into the sky. "The clouds are indeed hanging impressively low in the heavens," he observed.

Lizzie smiled. "Yeah! But look! It's starting to snow!"

Gordo put the keys in his jacket pocket, then took Lizzie's arm in his.

"So it is…" he said quietly.

And for a moment Gordo and Lizze, arm in arm once again, looked up at the first flakes of Christmas snow, as they stood together under the movie marquee that read: _It's a Wonderful Life._


End file.
